The Soldiering Life
by BakuhatsuSeigi
Summary: What if Dean wasn't raised as a Winchester, but as a Campbell instead? What if Dean had been reluctantly abandoned by Mary and raised by a Samuel and Deanna who had survived the YED attack? What would happen then? Eventual Destiel AU. M for safety reasons
1. The Soldier's Childhood

The Soldiering Life

Part 1

**Summary:** What if Dean hadn't been raised a Winchester? What if he had been a bastard reluctantly abandoned by Mary so that she could run away with John Winchester? What if Samuel and Deanna had survived their encounter with the Yellow-Eyed Demon? What if they had taken Dean in as their own and raised him as a Campbell? Eventual Destiel AU

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Lawrence, Kansas. June 24, 1979.<strong>

Even though it was late in the night, Mary Campbell was dressed in a white blouse and jeans. A duffel bag sat silently at the doorway of the nursery.

Mary walked over to the crib containing her son, Dean. She was singing 'Hey Jude' to the sleeping babe as she ran her fingers gently through his dark blond hair that matched her own.

His quiet snores both lifted and crushed her heart as remembrances of disapproving glances and muttered gossip came back to her. All of them aimed at her and her son because she had had him out of wed lock.

Tears stung her lovely blue eyes that shone with love, fear, and regret as she stopped singing and watched him continue to sleep.

"Mommy loves you so much, Dean. She loves you so much. Please, don't ever forget that," she whispered brokenly and leaned over the edge to kiss Dean's forehead tenderly. Mary drew back reluctantly and walked slowly out of the room, keeping eye contact with the crib for as long as she could before she was forced to turn and retrieve her bag.

Mary quickly exited the home she had lived in all her life after that last good bye. She never looked back and just ran to the '67 Mustang containing her lover and fiancé, John Winchester, giving him a heartfelt kiss before he drove them away from this town and into their new lives.

Mary never saw her mother watching sadly from the nursery window, nor did she hear Dean's cries of distress as the baby woke up, sensing that his life had changed drastically.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Lawrence, Kansas. November 5, 1983.<strong>

Little Dean Campbell clung tightly to his Grandma Deanna's hand as they stood in the kitchen together. He could hear Grandpa Samuel yelling at the mysterious man who had appeared at their door this morning. Dean was confused about the reason for the yelling, but at the same time frightened by the dark haired stranger who seemed to know him.

"Why is grandpa mad? Did that other man do something bad?" the child asked innocently as he looked up at his grandma with questioning hazel eyes.

Grandma Deanna just looked down at Dean and smiled sadly before she gathered him up into her arms and hugged him tight. He was confused about why she was suddenly doing this, but he smiled and returned the hug as tight as he could.

"I love you, grandma," Dean whispered so that only she could hear, thinking that it would make her feel better if she was upset.

The boy could hear the men arguing about a person named Mary and how she had ran away and died. Dean felt a little bad for Mary after finding out that she had died, but at the same time he hoped the stranger had remembered to salt and burn her remains like Grandpa Samuel had told him to do when people died.

Dean paused in his thinking as he felt his grandma begin to shake and he looked down curiously. He pouted as he caught sight of her tears and hugged his Grandma Deanna tighter.

"Why are you crying, grandma? Did you know that Mary person?" Dean queried and struggled out of her arms so that he could stand on the ground himself and look up at her with determined eyes.

Deanna almost felt ashamed that her grandson was trying to comfort her, but she smiled wryly and nodded her head while wiping away her tears. "Yes. Yes, baby, I knew her. Mary was your mother, Dean," she admitted gloomily and felt her heart break a little as Dean's eyes widened in realization. And though she didn't want to continue, she did, for Dean's sake, believing that he need to find out who the dark haired man was sooner or later anyways. "That man that Grandpa Samuel is yelling at is John Winchester, your father."

Dean was reeling after the revelation. His four year old mind couldn't really handle it, knowing that the man out in the living room was the one who had taken his mom away from him and the same man who had then let her die.

Tears began to stream down Dean's freckled cheeks and he couldn't stop them. But he didn't really want to either, figuring this was as good a time as any to get rid of all his tears before he became a real hunter and got to go out with grandpa and the rest of the Campbell family.

"Dean!" Deanna called out as her grandson turned and bolted into the living room, the boy too fast for her to catch.

Dean ran straight to where John and his grandpa stood in front of the couch and looked up at the dark haired man who looked tired and scruffy. He hated to admit it, but he could see the resemblance and that just made him angrier. His eyes were suddenly hard and he stopped crying, finding himself unable to do anything more than stare up at John Winchester with hate-filled eyes as his small body began to tremble with anger.

"I hate you! I hate you, John Winchester! You took my mom away from me! I hate you and I never want to see you again! Leave! Get out and leave me and grandpa and grandma alone!" the boy with the messy dark blond hair and Batman pajamas yelled up at the man who was more than twice his size. But, after he had finished yelling, Dean clutched tight to his Grandpa Samuel's leg with one hand while his free hand was clenched tight into a fist at his side.

Samuel and John stared down at Dean in surprise and horror respectively for the words the child had just spoken. But Samuel was the first to recover from the lapse and he resumed glaring at the _boy_ who had allowed his daughter to die in a supernatural fire.

"You heard Dean. Get off of my property. If I ever see you back here, I'll shoot you myself," Samuel growled in an unforgiving voice as he rested a hand on his grandson's head, trying to quietly soothe the child's trembling.

John, heartbroken for a second time, returned his own glare at his father-in-law, but took one last look at his son, who looked so much like him and Mary, before he reluctantly turned away and left the house. He headed back to the Mustang where baby Sam lay sleeping peacefully in a carrier and quietly drove away.

When the rumbling of the Mustang's engine could no longer be heard, Deanna and Samuel took Dean and sat him down on the couch between them. Though Samuel wasn't exactly the nurturing type, Deanna more than made up for it with her coddling of the boy.

"That was brave of you, Dean," Samuel praised his grandson with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. The pain of finding out that his only child was dead still too fresh in his old and hardened heart. But he petted Dean's head fondly and silently vowed to himself that he would raise Dean to be a better hunter than even he was, knowing that the child would go through many of the same losses that he had seen, but hoping that the boy would be strong enough to prevent at least some of them.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Campbell Compound. December 25, 1986. <strong>

Dean missed Lawrence and the school that he had attended, where he had made a lot of friends and played soccer with them. He had felt normal in Lawrence, but at the same time he had felt really different from everyone else too. The feeling had never truly bothered Dean though and he was coming to like the Campbell Compound.

He could play and learn how to hunt with his cousins, so that made the compound a pretty awesome place to be in Dean's book. And though the lessons were hard, Dean honestly liked them and was already a pretty good shot, or at least, that's what Grandpa Samuel told him. The praise made Dean puff his chest up with pride, but he never let it go to his head. Letting pride go to your head was what got you killed and Grandma Deanna made sure he knew that when she taught him how to make salt-filled shotgun cartridges a couple weeks back.

But now, it's Christmas morning and though the Campbells don't celebrate Christmas, Dean was sitting at a small dinner table in one of the kitchens with Gwen and Christian, two of his favorite cousins. The three of them were practically inseparable after they had first met.

He liked Gwen because she never tattled on him and she was really loyal, always watching his back when they snuck off to explore the complex with Christian. And though he never mentioned it, he thought her dark brown hair was really pretty. It always made him remember something from a long time ago. A mostly forgotten memory of a soft voice and pretty blue eyes with equally pretty hair.

And Dean honestly thought that Christian was pretty cool, even if he was a crybaby sometimes. But that just made them closer because Dean would come to Christian's defense if anyone picked on him and he knows that Christian would do the same for him if it came down to it.

They were enjoying a batch of cookies that one of their aunts had made. Dean suspected that it was Mark's mom who baked them, but Gwen argued that it was Robert's mom, because Aunt Helen never used white chocolate chips in her cookies. Christian, on the other hand, was of the opinion that his cousins were idiots for arguing and not just eating the oven fresh cookies. Though he knew that Gwen was right and that it was Aunt Lena who had made them because he had watched her baking earlier.

"Didn't your mothers ever teach you not to eat sweets for breakfast?" Samuel chuckled as he sat down at the table, joining the trio who giggled and continued to stuff their faces with the cookies regardless of what the patriarch of the family said.

"Don't have a mom. But you and grandma never stopped me from eating pie for breakfast," Dean spoke up after swallowing his mouthful and grinned mischievously, earning himself a light smack to the back of his head from Grandma Deanna when she walked into the kitchen.

"We couldn't stop you from eating the pie even if we tried, Dean Campbell, you pie thief you," Deanna mock scolded and earned herself a round of giggles from Christian and Gwen while Dean rubbed the back of his head lightly, a shy smile showing up on his embarrassed expression.

After the brief bonding moment between the five of them, more members of the extended Campbell clan began to filter into the kitchen while others went to the other kitchens that were in the compound. And with everyone cooking breakfast and getting ready for the day of hunting and research ahead, the compound was quickly filled with pleasant scents and sounds that Dean would always equate with his home and family.


	2. The Soldier's First Hunt

The Soldiering Life

Part 2

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Campbell Compound. November 20, 1991.<strong>

At age twelve, Dean's pretty damn proud of himself for making his first sawed off shotgun. He knew for a fact that no other sixth grader, whether or not they were a part of the Campbell clan, could claim this same achievement.

But, to be honest, he had a little help. This pretty blond, who he had never seen around the compound before, gave him some tips on just where to cut the barrel and at what angle he should hold the saw so that he doesn't mess up on accident. Strange enough though, the girl had disappeared before Dean could turn around and thank her.

Dean considered telling Samuel about this, but he decided against it. After all, she seemed really nice and didn't give off any bad vibes. And Dean had really good instincts, so he figured she wasn't a danger to him or anyone else in the family.

"Dean! Where are you? Your breakfast is ready! You better eat it before your grandfather is ready for the hunt!" Deanna calls from the kitchen down the hall.

A wide grin splits Dean's face as he stores the shotgun in his backpack and leaves it behind in the weapons room.

He had almost forgotten that today was the day they began the Big Hunt. His first outing on an actual hunt and his first chance to prove how great of a hunter he was. And to top things off, he got to go with Grandpa Samuel alone, while Gwen and Christian had to go on a different hunt with their dads.

Dean's a little disappointed that he won't get to see the look on Gwen and Christian's faces when they face their first monster, but he's not going to let that drag him down. Not even for a moment. He's way too excited about getting to bag his first kill with his brand new sawed off.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Pontiac, Illinois - Motel. November 21, 1991.<strong>

Dean's restless and ready to get going after being cooped up in the truck and then the motel room for so long. But Samuel sat his grandson down and ran the plan past him again, just in case.

"Alright, so we're hunting changelings here, Dean. Can you tell me what you're supposed to do with them?" Samuel asked as he sat Dean down on one of the motel beds and checked his pistol to make sure everything was clean and in working order.

Dean sighed, tired of going over the standard procedure for changelings, but he repeated it again, just to appease his grandpa. "You find them using a mirror and then burn them with fire. If you find the mother, even better, because killing her kills all her children," he ran through the information as quickly as he could and waited patiently for the sound of Grandpa Samuel chambering a round.

A corner of Samuel's lips quirked up in a smile and he playfully slapped Dean on the back. "That's my boy. You got that down perfect," the old man praised and rose from his seat. "Alright, let's go out and investigate. I already got a lead on the neighborhood we'll be looking into."

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Pontiac, Illinois - Suburbs. Later That Day.<strong>

Dean sat down on a white park bench, his green military coat pulled tight around himself to keep warm while he kept a keen eye on his backpack, not wanting to risk it or the weapons inside of it getting stolen.

Samuel had gone off alone to go door to door as a traveling preacher and see if he could get any more information or leads on the changeling mother. Dean, however, had been assigned to park duty and secretly checked all of the people who past by with a mirror carefully hidden in one of his sleeves.

So far, neither had dug up anything, but Dean caught a break when a boy who was about his age walked up to him. The kid was kind of scrawny with short, dark brown hair and these wide, kind of shell shocked blue eyes that mesmerized Dean as he looked into them. The kid checked out in the reflection test, so Dean knew he wasn't a changeling and he was honestly kind of glad about that.

"I haven't seen you around before," the dark haired boy queried as he came to a stop about a foot away from Dean.

The hunter-in-training looked up with a nervous smile and scratched the back of his head lightly. "Yeah. I'm here visiting some relatives. But my cousins are kind of boring so I decided to come out here and just sit," Dean lied easily, though there's a small twisting in his gut, like he didn't like that he had just lied to this total stranger.

"Oh? Well, a lot of the kids around here have been acting strange lately. They're not really acting like themselves," the brunet admitted quietly and took a seat on the bench, in the empty spot next to Dean's backpack. "I'm James Novak, by the way. But you can just call me Jimmy."

"Dean. Dean Winchester," the dark blond introduced himself in return, though he mentally winced at the slip of name and hated that he had mistakenly used the name of the man he despised as his alias. But he shook it off and got back to business. He was interested in the information Jimmy had and he kind of wanted to hear the other boy's voice again anyways.

Jimmy's voice was light with some feminine qualities due to his youth, but it was already showing hints of masculinity with a very slight deepening that Dean had just barely caught. In a way, Dean was jealous because he still hadn't reached the point where his voice was anywhere near changing, so he still sounded like a kid. But at the same time, he didn't really mind. He didn't want it to be a contest between him and Jimmy.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Jimmy replied politely and Dean smiled, offering a nod as his reply.

"Yeah, same," Dean said with what felt like a ridiculously huge grin that made his cheeks hurt a little. "So, uh, can you tell me what you meant by the kids not acting like themselves?"

Jimmy pursed his lips and furrowed his brows after Dean had asked the question, as if he was hesitant to talk about it. But he released a heavy sigh and placed his hands in his jacket pockets subconsciously, one hand fingering his rosary thoughtfully while the other rested idly.

"They just haven't been themselves. The children around here used to come to the park all the time and laugh and play. Some of them would talk to me too because we were in the same church. But recently, they've become more quiet. Reserved even. I feel like they're up to no good," the brunet admitted sadly and let his gaze drift upward, towards the sky as he clasped his rosary tight and sent up a silent prayer. But he brought it back down again when he noticed Dean pull the backpack off to the side and moved to sit closer to him.

Dean rested a hand on Jimmy's shoulder reassuringly and felt his heart flutter a little when the other boy smiled gratefully. "Ah. I'm sure it's just a game that they made up. But if they're leaving you out, it's probably not all that fun," he chuckled and let his hand fall away as he shifted and made himself more comfortable on the hard wood bench.

"Can you tell me when this all started?" Dean prodded carefully, not wanting to raise any of Jimmy's suspicions.

Jimmy frowned faintly, wondering why Dean would want to know something like that, but he shook it off. His parents had always taught him to help people in need and, well, he supposed this counted as someone in need. In need of information.

"I think it began a week or two ago. Mother mentioned something about Mrs. Fig acting strangely and not even a day later, her son, Charlie, was acting strange too. And then more and more kids began to act strangely and some of the mothers around the neighborhood began to get sick. Some of the fathers have died in accidents too," Jimmy recounted the story as best as he could, though he was saddened by the reminder of all the deaths. He raised a brow curiously when he saw Dean's lips twitch into the faintest smile, but the image was quickly gone and the dark blond was looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

"Thanks for telling me all of that, Jimmy. It was pretty interesting," Dean beamed, but stopped when he noticed a women with dark brown hair similar to Jimmy's standing not too far from them. Grandpa Samuel wasn't far behind either, walking up to the park in his flannel and jeans again, instead of the priest get up.

"I've got to go," the boys spoke up at the same time, but paused and looked at each other, shocked, before bursting into fits of laughter.

"It was nice talking to you. Hopefully, we will see each other again," Jimmy bade farewell cheerfully as he rose from the bench and ran over to his mother, the woman's expression pinched into one of impatience that melted away into relief when her son returned to her.

"Yeah, hopefully," Dean whispered under his breath and took his time gathering up his backpack and pulling it on before he jogged over to Grandpa Samuel.

Dean recounted everything he had learned from Jimmy to his grandpa on the drive back to the motel. Samuel more or less confirmed the same information and they planned to strike tonight and wrap things up so that they could get back in time for the big Campbell Thanksgiving Dinner.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Pontiac, Illinois - The Fig Household. Later That Night.<strong>

Samuel kicked in the door of the house and slowly walked in, flashlight and flamethrower at the ready.

Dean was at his grandpa's back, breathing calmly and holding his own flamethrower ready and his flashlight steady. The hunter-in-training was walking the same half moon pattern he had been learning for as long as he could remember as he scanned the darkness for any signs of danger.

But, of course, there was always danger. Even if his eyes couldn't see it, Dean's instincts were screaming at him that changelings were everywhere, watching their every move as they moved deeper into the house.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Pontiac, Illinois - The Novak Household. <strong>

Jimmy knelt at the side of his bed in pale blue pajamas, his hands clasped in prayer and his rosary intertwined between his fingers. He had just reached the end of his prayer when he paused and frowned faintly as he remembered something.

"God, please, I do not know if he is one of your disciples, but if you could watch over Dean Winchester and make sure he is safe, I would be forever in your debt. I feel that he might be heading down a dangerous path. He is not evil and I know he isn't heading towards the path of the Devil, but…I can not explain why. It is just a feeling that twists and aches in my heart. So, please, please watch over Dean. Amen," the brunet finally finished and rose from his knees.

He was about to climb into bed, but a loud buzzing sound stopped him. Jimmy covered his ears and shut his eyes tight as the buzzing got louder and his room began to quake. The brunet fell to his knees again as the sound became overwhelming, but he pried his eyes open and looked up at the light that shone before him.

"Wh-what are you?" Jimmy barely managed to grind out the words, but lowered his hands slowly as the buzzing ebbed away, or maybe it just became more tolerable. He wasn't really sure.

_I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord. I require your assistance, James Novak,_ the light replied and spread out gigantic wings made of light and white energy that cast shadows all around the room.

"Why would an angel need help from a human?" the boy asked, unafraid of the angel before him because he could sense that Castiel wasn't lying. But he truly found it hard to believe that an angel, a warrior of God, could ever require help. "I…how can I even help you?"

Castiel lowered his wings and looked down at Jimmy with bright blue eyes that almost looked like fiery sapphires in the mass of white light and wisps that made up the angel's form.

_I require a vessel so that I may act upon my orders and save Dean Campbell. You are the only human who will be able to contain my essence without incurring harm at this moment, James, _the angel spoke in a low hum and moved a little bit closer to his chosen vessel.

Jimmy frowned in confusion, but nodded slowly, knowing that it would be wrong to leave this Dean Campbell in harm's way when he could help it.

"Alright. Just…just let me get dressed first, please?" he asked quickly and smiled softly when he received what he supposed was the angelic equivalent of a nod in a slow blink.

He quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a white long sleeve shirt that he threw his warm, beige jacket over before he turned back to Castiel.

"I'm ready. You can use me as your vessel, Castiel," Jimmy proclaimed in a quiet, but strong voice. He felt his body suddenly jerk, as if shocked by electricity as Castiel's light intensified and everything became a blinding white.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Pontiac, Illinois - The Fig Household. Ten Minutes Later.<strong>

"No. No no no. This is bad. This is very bad," Dean hissed as he ran backwards down a hall and used the flamethrower to burn away any of the changelings that came too close.

He and Grandpa Samuel had gotten separated about three minutes back when a horde of changelings came at them from two different directions. And while his grandpa had been herded up the stairs, Dean knew he was being pushed back towards the basement. If they did manage to get him into the basement, the dark blond knew he was a dead man. But Dean was definitely not ready to die just yet.

Suddenly, Dean backed up into another body, making him literally jump and turn in fear. Bright hazel eyes widened in shock, however, when they landed on one Jimmy Novak, standing there in the same clothes he had been wearing at the park earlier today.

"Jimmy? What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked quickly, but whipped his head around to see the changelings who had suddenly stopped in their tracks and were glaring hard at him and Jimmy. And Dean thinks he catches whimpering too. But why would the changelings be whimpering?

Dean cursed softly and turned his head again, spotting a decorative mirror on the wall. He looked at himself and Jimmy through it, but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Just his and Jimmy's reflections.

"Dean Campbell," Jimmy spoke up and rested a hand on Dean's shoulder. But his voice sounded different. It's deeper and more serious, almost inhuman. And yet the sound of that voice wrapped itself around Dean like a warm blanket and easily comforted him.

"What are you? What have you done to Jimmy?" Dean questioned warily while keeping a watchful eye on the changelings.

Eyes that were like cerulean colored fire looked down on their charge silently for a moment before shifting back to the monsters that stood fearfully before them.

"James Novak is safe. I am just using his body as my vessel for the time being," the thing in Jimmy stated plainly and slowly moved his hand off of Dean's shoulder.

Dean felt himself immediately tense up again at the loss of contact between himself and the Jimmy impersonator. He can't explain why, but he didn't want to lose that contact.

"Still doesn't explain what the hell you are. You could be a demon for all I know," the dark blond grinded out, only to find that the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth after he's spoken them.

The mystery creature in Jimmy Novak moved to Dean's side and rested a hand on his shoulder again, watching as his ward relaxed under the touch. He then raised his other hand and a sudden flash of light enveloped the house, setting fire to the changelings that had been threatening to move closer just moments before. After they had been dealt with, the creature turned and looked Dean in the eyes.

"I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord. My Father has commanded that I protect you and I have. Now, it is your turn to fulfill your duty and kill the mother changeling," Castiel quickly explained, but was already pushing Dean towards the basement before the boy could even digest the information.

"Angels exist?" Dean asked numbly as he was pushed towards the basement door. No matter how hard the twelve year old struggled against the angel and tried to get him to stop pushing him, he couldn't and was continually overwhelmed by Castiel's angelic strength.

"Yes, but you will not remember our encounter. You will forget, as you have forgotten our earlier encounters as well," Castiel spoke as he finally stopped pushing Dean. A sad smile settled itself onto Castiel's features the moment before he pressed his fingers to Dean's temple and disappeared with the sound of flapping wings the next.

Dean shook his head and blinked quickly. He can't remember what had just happened, but he feels that something important had just taken place. But the thought immediately became unimportant when Dean realized that the changelings chasing after him were gone and that he's standing in front of the basement door.

"Dean!" Samuel bellowed from up the stairs and the boy panicked for a moment.

The sound of his grandpa's voice was one of desperation and a plea for help that sent the dark blond boy running down the basement steps. And when Dean saw all the cages containing the replaced children and the mother changeling looming over them hungrily, he didn't hesitate to set her on fire.

Dean watched her burn with a cheeky grin on his lips and a sense of satisfaction for a job well done filling up his chest. But he didn't allow himself to stop for long. Once the mother changeling was dead and gone, Dean set to work opening the cages and freeing the children, all while the steady beats of Grandpa Samuel's footsteps came running down the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: On The Road.<strong>

Samuel looked down at Dean snoring softly in the passenger seat with a faint smile as he drove down the dark roads silently. He had suggested that they spend the night at the motel and leave early in the morning, but Dean had been surprisingly stubborn and demanded that they head straight back to the Campbell Complex to let everyone know that the hunt had gone well.

The patriarch snorted softly at the memory and shook his head, amused by his grandson's actions. But deep down, he was glad that Dean was so attached to the family. It strengthened them all if they could learn to depend on each other.

Though, Samuel believed that Dean was strong enough to stand on his own if he really needed to, even if the idea really did pain him somewhere in his heart. Dean had proven that to him tonight, back at the house in Pontiac, when he had somehow managed to take care of himself and roast the mother changeling all on his own.

The boy was a hunter prodigy and would one day, very soon, surpass Samuel Campbell himself.


	3. The Soldier's Two Loves

The Soldiering Life

Part 3

Note: Sorry about the wait. My inspiration has been running dry lately. Well, enough of that. Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Campbell Compound. January 24, 1995.<strong>

Today was Dean's sixteenth birthday, but he honestly did not remember that. He was too busy jumping out of bed and rushing to get dressed and prepped for another day of hell in high school to be distracted by something like his birthday.

Thankfully, Dean had a family to remember these things when he couldn't be bothered to.

"Hey, Casanova, why are you in such a hurry this morning?" Gwen called out from down the hallway as she watched Dean comically pull on his boots as he chewed on a piece of toast in his mouth.

Dean shot a nasty glare at his cousin before finally straightening out his laces and standing up straight. He took a bite out of the slightly soggy piece of toast and chewed on it hastily.

"In case you forgot, we have school, princess," he snorted softly, but relaxed and waved at Christian as he came down the hall behind Gwen.

Christian blinked owlishly behind his glasses as he looked up from his English reading and noticed his cousins loitering in the hallway again.

"Dean, did you forget that it's your birthday _again_?" the blond asked with a sleepy sigh. Christian knew he had hit the nail right on the head when Dean tensed up and froze right in front of them.

Dean raised a brow and frowned faintly as if in thought. "Huh. So it is. Guess that means I get to drive today," he crowed joyfully and shot his cousins a wide grin. "Come on, let's see if gramps will let us borrow the truck."

The dark blond had turned on his heel and was about to dash down the hall when he was stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of Samuel standing right behind him. Dean stared at Samuel with wide hazel eyes for a moment before he quickly backed up a step and laughed nervously.

"Hey. Morning, Grandpa Samuel. We were just about ask if we could borrow your truck," Dean smiled sheepishly before remembering the piece of toast in his hand and taking another bite out of it to relax himself.

"We?" Gwen questioned as she walked up to Dean and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Come on, just back me up guys," Dean groaned softly. He turned his head to look at Christian when he felt the other teen's hand on his shoulder. But at the sight of his cousin's mischievous smirk, Dean scowled.

"Sorry, Dean. Me and Gwen have to go get some breakfast. Tell us how things go with Samuel," the bespectacled teen winked at Dean and walked off towards the kitchen with Gwen right beside him.

"Traitors," Dean grumbled under his breath before he returned his focus to his grandpa and looked to the older male with bright, questioning eyes. "So, uh, mind if I borrow the truck?"

As soon as Samuel began to shake his head, Dean deflated. The teen was about to ask why, but any question that he had come up with died as he spotted the amused smile on his grandfather's expression. Dean arched a brow, but kept his mouth shut, knowing most of the signals that said Samuel was about to talk and this was one of them.

"I think that truck is a little too old for you, Dean. She's good, but she's not yours, you hear me?" Samuel said with a meaningful glance.

Dean was slow on the uptake, but once the information clicked into place, he was jumping on it and looking up at Grandpa Samuel with wide, shocked eyes. "Holy shit. Are you giving me a car?" the teen asked, his tone full of disbelief and excitement as he cracked a grin.

"Dean Campbell, you watch your mouth, young man!" Deanna called from the kitchen, he sharp ears never missing a curse or blasphemy that passed from her grandson's lips.

"Sorry, Grandma Deanna!" Dean hollered back before returning his eager attention to Samuel once again.

Samuel snorted softly at his grandson's antics, but reached into his jean pocket and drew out a set of car keys, his daughter's, Mary's, bracelet wrapped around the key ring like the protective charm it was. He watched as Dean zeroed in on the familiar sound of the bracelet's charms jingling and chuckled as the sixteen year old visibly paled and then flushed red at the sight of the even more familiar keys.

"The Impala?" Dean breathed out reverently, his voice barely a whisper and shaky as he tried to process the information and work through his shock.

"I think Mary would have wanted you to take the Impala, Dean," Samuel replied with a kind smile and took Dean's hand, setting the highly revered keys down in the teenager's slightly sweaty palm. "Take good care of her. She's yours now."

Though Dean could feel his heart drop to his stomach, the feeling was gone before he knew it and an elated grin split his face as he clutched the keys tightly in his hand.

"Thank you, Grandpa Samuel," Dean managed to bark out with grin that hurt more than anything he had been through before because it just wouldn't leave his face. As he walked away, body trembling with nerves and adrenaline, he still couldn't believe that he was inheriting the Impala.

All of the Campbell children revered the Impala, but none more so than Dean. Not even Christian or Gwen could hold a candle to how much their cousin loved the classic beauty whose engine purred them to sleep on more than one occasion.

Dean loved every centimeter of the Impala, even her flaws and blemishes, because each one was from a memory he shared with his family. And they made her even more beautiful than any other '67 Impala out there.

The trio's initials were lovingly carved into the Impala's interior with a knife Dean had snuck out of Samuel's weapon stash.

Legos, also courtesy of Dean, were shoved into her vents so that they rattled every time the A/C or heat was turned on.

Christian had shoved a plastic army man into her ash tray and no one had ever been able to free the green soldier-shaped toy.

Gwen even added her own touch. The first perfect Devil's Trap she ever drew is on the inside of the trunk, protecting all of the children's most prized possessions and weapons from any nasty demon who would try to break in.

So, even as Dean walked out into the garage and looked at the Impala, shining with a fresh coat of wax and just waiting for him to get inside and drive away with her, he reminded himself that she wasn't just his baby.

She was Mary's before she was ever his.

And now, she was Christian's and Gwen's too, because he knew he would be traveling across the country, hunting everything that went bump in the night with his favorite cousins.

And that thought was what made Dean all the much more grateful to Samuel as he got behind the steering wheel and watched the other members of the trio get in right after him.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Pontiac, Illinois - Suburbs. June 16, 1997.<strong>

Eighteen and freshly graduated from high school, Dean felt that he'd earned the right to go out on a road trip across the country by himself. He left the Campbell Compound with a duffel bag full of clothes, money, and various other necessities and left only a note behind saying that he was going to be gone for about a week.

Dean had already driven for two days straight in the Impala, listening to her engine rumble as he drove her down roads that were a little more dirt than asphalt. He knew he'd have to give her another tune up and clean out all the dirt that's gotten on her, but he's happy. And he's in Pontiac, just like he said he would be.

Within the community of the Campbell family, it was a well known fact that Dean had something of a crush on a boy that he met when he went on his first hunt back in Pontiac. It was also a well known fact that Samuel had to open a P.O. box for a twelve year old Dean so that he could write and receive letters with said boy without revealing the location of their base of operations.

What wasn't well known, however, was that Dean had been exchanging letters for the past few months trying to organize the date and location for when he would be able to meet up with Jimmy Novak again.

So, there he was, a Dean Campbell who was six years older and more than a few inches taller, parking his baby near by the park where he had first met Jimmy. He got out of his car with a confident swagger that came second nature to him and a pleased smile perched on his cupid bow lips.

But all of that was dropped and long forgotten when the dark blond saw a man about his age sitting, waiting for him, on that same white park bench he had been sitting on all those years ago. He hadn't been expecting him to be out this early in the morning, but he was sort of glad that no one else was around to disturb them.

Dean paused mid step and looked down at himself. He made sure his faded jeans were all in one piece and his black tee wasn't too wrinkled and the dark blue shirt over it was on straight. He double checked his boots laces and made sure they were tied tight before he looked up again. But he quickly reeled back when he came face to face with Jimmy, who had apparently been watching him with an amused smile.

"Trying to impress me, Dean?" Jimmy asked and chuckled softly at the bright red blush that painted itself across Dean's cheeks.

But, looking at his pen pal, Jimmy felt a little overdressed in his black suit and blue tie. He hadn't been sure what to wear, however, and his mother had pushed him out of the house with his suit case in this after growing tired of his incessant rambling about meeting with Dean again for the first time in six years.

"Uh…you could say that," Dean mumbled, unwilling to admit that he had indeed been trying to impress Jimmy.

The brunet offered his friend a beatific smile that oddly reminded Dean of rich brown wings and a deep voice carrying him off to sleep with what sounded like a lullaby. But Dean shook his head and smiled sheepishly, pushing the mostly forgotten memories to the back of his mind, because the more he tried to think about them, the more he felt like a part of his brain was going to be scratched out.

"So, Jimmy, you ready for our road trip?" Dean asked with a confident smile, trying to hide his embarrassment from earlier behind his bravado.

"Huh? Oh. Our road trip. Right. Just let me get my things," Jimmy rambled, suddenly nervous and blushing himself as he ran back to the bench to grab his suit case. He could hear Dean chuckling as he ran back and couldn't help but look at the other teen with a slight frown, his blush a shade or two brighter than it had been previously.

"It's not funny, Dean," the brunet mumbled, fixing sad blue eyes on his friend. But he suddenly froze, his body tense with shock as he felt Dean's lips unexpectedly press against his own.

He's not disgusted. No. Far from it. Jimmy's just shocked. But he slowly pressed his lips back against Dean's and fumbled clumsily into the kiss he had been waiting for since Dean had admitted he liked him two years ago.

Dean reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, a stupid smile on his own lips as he looked into Jimmy's dazed blue pools, amusement shining in his own hazel green eyes. "No. It's not funny. Sorry about that, Jimmy," he said with a kind smile and clapped Jimmy across the back as he led him back to the Impala.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Pontiac, Illinois - Motel. June 21, 1997.<strong>

For five long, but unforgettable days, Dean drove himself and Jimmy as far as they could go in the Impala. They talked about everything they couldn't fit into their letters, except for Dean's life as a hunter, of course. While Jimmy talked about his overly religious parents and how it had been hard for them to accept that he was most likely bisexual at first, Dean exchanged stories of being the class clown and starting prank wars with his cousins every chance he got and how his grandparents were worried that he would never be able to take anything seriously.

They had seen everything that they had wanted to see. They even saw the world's largest ball of twine, though it really wasn't that exciting, it was still a pretty interesting sight.

It had been just the two of them, the Impala, and the road. But now, they were back in Pontiac, staying in a cheap motel for the last night of their trip together.

Jimmy and Dean had gotten a room with two queens, but they were sitting on the same bed for now. Their hands were clasped tightly together as they sat beside one another and looked at each other nervously.

Dean was a regular Casanova who could charm the ladies right off their feet and Jimmy was a complete and total virgin who only touched himself on very rare occasions. His first real kiss had been taken by Dean.

But neither of them knew what to do now that they were alone together and on a bed.

"Dean, I-" Jimmy began nervously, timid, baby blue eyes shifting away from their shared gaze as he swallowed down the lump in his throat, but Dean stopped him and followed his gaze.

A hesitant smile appeared on the dark blond teen's lips, complementing the uncertain expression he wore on his pretty face. "It's alright, Jimmy. We don't have to do anything if you're not ready for it," he whispered, trying to take the edge off of Jimmy's nerves and maybe his own because he had never done anything like this with another man before, let alone anyone he honestly cared about.

"No, Dean. I…I honestly do like you and I want to…to try this with you, at least once. Please," the brunet stuttered and begged, gripping Dean's hand a little too tight. But no matter how much he tried, Jimmy couldn't hide the uncertainty he felt and he knew Dean could hear it in his voice. He had always been too honest for his own good and it was coming back to bite him in the ass at the worst possible time.

Dean's reluctant now too, but from the look in Jimmy's eyes, he could tell that the brunet was ready and he wasn't going to deny him anything if he could help it.

"Alright. But we'll take things slow. Just tell me if you want to stop and I'll stop. Got that?" he asked, needing to make sure that he had Jimmy's full consent before they went any further.

"Alright," Jimmy answered, forcing strength into his voice even though he was close to trembling with fear and excitement.

He summoned up the courage to kiss Dean. It was far from the second time they had kissed since beginning their week on the road together, but it was the first time Jimmy had even tried to initiate one. But it was slow and sweet. Something innocent, but intimate, that ignited fires in the pits of their stomachs.

"Lie back," Dean instructed Jimmy, breaking off the kiss and taking charge because he was the more experienced of the two in these types of situations.

He pressed his hand flat against Jimmy's chest, not really pushing him down, but letting his hand guide him before trailing down to open the buttons on the shirt he had let the brunet borrow. Dean pushed the shirt off of Jimmy's shoulders and pulled it off of him along with the tee underneath. Once they had been tossed carelessly off the side of the bed, the dark blond pressed his lips against the bared pale skin. It was a sort of opened mouth kiss to Jimmy's flat stomach and a swift lick that left a burning trail of saliva in its wake. Dean trailed these kisses up Jimmy's torso and right up to the slender column of the other male's neck. He scraped his teeth lightly against the sensitive skin, but didn't go any further when Jimmy made a small noise in protest.

"Dean," Jimmy whined, his voice breathless and strained. He threw his arm over his eyes, ashamed and unable to look down at Dean as his body was explored by gentle hands. He felt like he was sinning, betraying God in some unfathomable way, but he wanted Dean so badly. Jimmy was at war with himself.

"Do you want me to stop?" Dean asked cautiously, looking up at Jimmy with hesitant jade green eyes because he was afraid that he had ruined something perfect that they had.

"I…please, don't stop," Jimmy whimpered and finally moved his arm to rest it across Dean's shoulders. He bit his lip lightly as he bucked his hips, grinding his clothed erection against the one he could feel growing in Dean's jeans.

Both males groaned at the friction, the heat surging in their groins as they grinded just a little bit harder to get more contact between them. But Dean pulled away, a dark blush staining his freckled cheeks as he looked down at Jimmy with dark, almost forest green eyes.

"Clothes. Off," Dean commanded, his voice a broken edge becoming rougher with desire as he rushed to strip himself of his own clothing. But by the time he had finally stripped himself, boots, socks, and all, he felt like he had been separated from Jimmy for far too long.

Teenage hormones raged and clambered for attention and affection as the two came together. Hunger made their teeth click and clash as they kissed their lips red. Passion made their hands roam and wander the planes of the other male's body, desperate to memorize the others skin like a road map. But lust made them stop and pause and moan the others name as they ground their hips together.

A primal rhythm that neither was familiar with thrummed in their veins. It egged them on, pushed them harder and faster as their breaths became soft whines and grunts mixed with panting and breathy moans.

Dean stopped his hands and let them fall to Jimmy's slender hips, holding them in an almost bruising grip as he felt Jimmy's arms drape themselves over his shoulders.

"Jimmy," the dark blond moaned, his voice breaking as he got to the last syllable. He buried his face in the other teen's neck and could smell Jimmy's scent, at it's strongest and most alluring right where he had pressed his nose. Dean could feel the sweat slicking up their skin as things sort of spiraled into a frenzy of heat, sensation, and un-coordination.

Neither wanted it to end even though they desperately needed relief from the fire of passion that was consuming them alive. They needed solace from the precipice that they faced. But when they were dragged off that cliff, more so than jumped off of it, together, they knew something was broken. Irrevocably so.

After separate showers that were more than a little tense and a long ride back to the Novak Residence in silence, Jimmy refused to talk about what had happened between them and Dean couldn't understand what had been broken. He just knew that they had overstepped a line at some point during their act and that nothing would ever be the same between them.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Pontiac, Illinois. August 21, 1998.<strong>

After a year of silence from Jimmy, the other male refused to answer any of his letters completely, Dean found a wedding invitation in his P.O. box. He knew that he should have been angry about this sort of thing coming out of the blue, but he was happy for the guy. And relieved that he hadn't ruined him or something.

So, Dean found himself in Pontiac again, maybe for the last time, in a rented tuxedo and slicked back hair, attending the wedding of Jimmy Novak and Amelia Bennett. He was trying to look his best because Deanna would have murdered him otherwise for being disrespectful to the happy couple.

But Dean didn't stick around for long. He didn't want to be at the reception. He hadn't brought a date. And he didn't want to be around for when everyone started asking who he was or how he knew Jimmy. He was only there long enough to watch the vows being taken and congratulate the newlyweds before he was hitting the road in the Impala again.

* * *

><p><strong>Location: Cicero, Indiana. August 22 through 24, 1998.<strong>

Dean left Pontiac and didn't look back. He drove down the road, wandering with a heart that ached and gnawed at him viciously in his chest. But he found that he didn't get very far.

The Impala came to a stop in Cicero, Indiana. It was a place he had never been to before, but he had gotten lucky.

After stopping buy a bar and flashing a fake ID, he had hooked up with a yoga teacher named Lisa Braeden and spent the bendiest weekend of his life in her loft.


End file.
